


Edge of Insanity

by Ravenclawpride06



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lydia can't handle things for a while, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, but she is still perfect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:08:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2668151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclawpride06/pseuds/Ravenclawpride06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Witches start sacrificing innocent people in Beacon Hills, the McCall pack are the first ones to investigate; but will their vicious tactics prove too much for Scott and his pack?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Knocking lightly on the door leaves Lydia Martin with a pool of nerves in her stomach and a desire to run back down the stairs she had just climbed. This particular door had once been familiar to her, almost like a second home, now she feels like an alien landing on earth for the first time and she decides she doesn’t like it. It’s only after she starts to push the door open that she realises that he might have company – company in the form of Malia – she debates whether the earlier plan of escaping down the stairs is still an option. Just this once Lydia begs some higher power, just this once let him be alone.

She’s sure he hears the sigh of relief she breathes when she sees him standing at his crime board – even from across the room. She can’t stop the edges of her mouth lifting as he turns to greet her, a smile warming his brown eyes.

‘Lydia,’ Stiles tone is welcoming, yet she can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that has settled around his shoulders and she hovers in the doorway, unable to enter this room which holds so many memories. 

Stiles frowns at her unease and defiantly catches her hand to pull her inside. She sits delicately on the edge of his bed, staring quietly at the carpet in front of the crime board. Lydia only needs to know Stiles to guess that if she measured all of the carpet fibres in his room, they’d be thinnest in front of the hulking piece of furniture that displays all the supernatural activity in Beacon Hills.

There’s a silence that neither is used to between them; it’s more likely that they’re throwing ideas back and forth or even arguing like an old married couple; but this silence is foreign and unfamiliar and it’s starting to fray the edges of Stiles’ nerves. He tries to think of a single thing to say but surprisingly his brain ceases to provide words. Instead he sinks to his knees before her trying to let his eyes do the talking but her gaze never wavers from its place on the floor. 

She feels the pressure of his fingertips first, they settle on her chin as he pulls her head to meet her eyes. She leans into his touch but his fingers slide away too soon and she realises just how much she’s missed human contact.

It breaks him to see her this way – the bright, beautiful light that normally shone from Lydia Martin was damaged beyond repair – a shell of the girl she once was. A side-effect of the world they’d dragged her – kicking and screaming – into. _Scott, Allison and I,_ he thinks bitterly, _she would be without a care in the world if it wasn’t for us._

‘Lydia,’ Stiles says once more, softly, the guilt clearly etched across his features. ‘Talk to me Lydia… please,’ he all but whispers; the bright smile she flashes towards him does nothing to hide the tears in her eyes. 

‘Help me, Stiles,’ she chokes out, eventually meeting his gaze. His eyes follow the path of one of her tears as it slides down to the tip of her nose and runs off the end.  
‘I thought you might know a thing or two about what it feels like to go insane,’ she continues, ending with a shaky laugh.

'Thanks!' He offers a slight snort in an attempt to lighten the mood. His guilt gnawing away at his insides as he tries to remember the last time he was alone with Lydia; the last time he asked her how she was feeling… he couldn’t remember.

'You know what I mean,' she lowers her eyes and with a voice which sends an unwarranted shiver down his spine, Lydia says, 'Nogitsune.'

Even with the ordeal long over, Stiles regularly has nightmares about being under the control of another entity; seeing through its eyes, knowing what it was doing but being unable to stop it. 

Stiles looks up at her, his eyes filled with honesty, ‘Yeah, I’ve been there. Lydia, I know I wasn’t there for you when I needed someone to turn to – but from this moment I promise you that that will change.’ 

‘Thanks, Stiles,’ she blows out a breath, ‘I think I’d just become so used to having you there that it wasn’t until you weren’t that I appreciated just how much I depend on you.’  
There’s a moment of silence as he processes what she just said and then he smiles at her and it’s brighter than the sun to her because it’s _Stiles._

Then, as if to prove just how very _Stiles_ he is he fetches snacks from the kitchen. Returning, he finds her laid on her stomach her strawberry blonde hair hanging in curtains around her face and resting in pools where it hits the bed. In front of her rest the pages he’d printed the evening before and as she slowly turns them it’s clear that it’s more to help her think than to actually read the text.

‘Nothing adds up,’ she points out.

‘I know,’ Stiles says, ‘how did Meredith have the mental clarity to carry out Peter’s plans?’

‘Meticulously, whilst locked in a mental institution and without anybody noticing?’ Lydia remarks.

It brings back memories she’d thought she’d buried, studying the information with him, making connections with him, sharing the same space with him. Lydia leaves before it starts to get dark and Stiles spends the night worrying about her. 

\--  
It’s two nights later that Stiles wakes to the sound of his phone buzzing and falling off the bedside table. Since they’ve been texting almost constantly since Sunday, he expects it to be Lydia and is almost surprised that Malia’s name pops up with a text: 'You busy?'

He frowns at himself, just as it wasn’t fair that his friendship with Lydia suffer in favour of his relationship with Malia, it’s also not fair that he should neglect Malia in favour of Lydia. He types a quick reply and re-reads a page entitled, ‘werewolf telepaths,’ before he notices a shadow at his window.

Malia offers him a small smile as she wanders into his room, perching on the end of his bed. Stiles' eyes widen - he's pretty sure Malia has never perched anywhere in her entire life. It's normal for her to come in, throw herself on his bed and sprawl across it for the rest of the evening. 

After watching her for less than ten seconds, it’s clear to Stiles that Malia has something on her mind.

‘I feel torn,’ she says with unexpected suddenness. ‘I never knew what torn felt like till now, Stiles but I think that’s how I feel.’ 

Seeing that he’s about to launch into a speech of an indefinite length she puts a finger to his lips. 

‘Let me speak, Stilinski.’ 

‘Uhh… okay?’ He mumbles around her finger.

‘Basically what I wanted to say was - please don’t hate me – I need to figure out who I am and what I want in life… alone.’ Malia runs a hand through her long brown hair. ‘God, that came out so wrong. Please can we be friends. Oh, look at me, I’m doing all the clichés now…’ She winces at him, ‘you know, you’re supposed to be the one who teaches me how to do this – to interact with people.’

Stiles laughs long and hard, ‘So you want me to teach you how to break up with me?’ 

‘You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? You’re not supposed to laugh.’

Stiles tries to keep a straight face and fails.

Malia scowls mumbling something that sounds like, ‘the internet is useless,’ before she looks at him properly, her gaze transforming into the softest expression he’s ever seen on her face. ‘It’s not that I don’t love you Stiles, but I think I love you like a friend.’

Stiles scratches behind his ear, looking uncomfortable, ‘I um… I think I know exactly how you feel.’

Malia grins at how he looks, ‘Just because you’re the only person I actually like doesn’t mean I’m in love with you.’ 

Stiles grins back at her.

‘Friends?’ Malia asks.

‘Best friends,’ Stiles replies with a smile as he throws himself next to her.

\--

Stiles has just fallen asleep when his phone startles him awake at two in the morning. Keeping his eyes closed against the harsh glare of the screen in the dark room, he answers. Sitting up to avoid falling back to sleep he groans a groggy hello into the speaker.

‘Stiles?’ his eyes fly open at the sound of Lydia’s voice, panicked and sore.

‘Stiles. Please can you come?’


	2. Chapter 2

Heart pounding Stiles scrambles out of bed with Lydia’s panicked voice running through his brain, her desperation obvious as she asked him to come to her. He drags on his clothes from yesterday and in his mad rush he ends up putting both of his legs in the same trouser leg and as a result stumbles into his bedside table. Stiles hisses and bites his tongue to avoid the swear word forming in his lips when pain blooms at his hip. He looks to his father’s door as he creeps past, praying that he hasn’t woken him up. 

Climbing into his Jeep, Stiles rubs at his eyes, trying to clear the foggy haze of sleep that has settled there. This particular Tuesday night is misty and cold, Roscoe has trouble spluttering to life as if the cold as seeped into the car. He watches the glowing green of the numbers on the dashboard as they flick from 2:35 to 2:36. Finally, the engine gives a roar which dies to a purr in seconds.

As his Jeep slows to a stop outside Lydia’s house Stiles cuts the engine and jumps out. Lydia must have been watching from her window because the front door opens quietly less than a minute later. Her pale skin glows in the moonlight and her red hair looks as if it is setting the mist on fire. She pulls him inside and silently they climb the stairs to her room.

She looks tiny, standing hunched over in the corner of the room. ‘Sorry,’ she says in a small voice and Stiles realises she’s standing there so she can see the whole room. So nothing can sneak up on her. ‘I didn’t have anyone else to call.’

Walking towards her Stiles pulls her in and wraps his arms around her, not sure what else he should do. A thousand apologies couldn’t make up for the emotional pain he’d caused this girl. It’s a couple of minutes before he finally feels her relax into him and realising how tired she must be, guides her to the bed so she can lie down and kneels beside her.

‘What’s wrong Lydia?’ Stiles whispers.

Lydia presses her palms together and Stiles notices that her whole body is shaking. There’s a pause and Lydia wrinkles her nose, trying hard to find the right words.   
‘In the past few weeks… well, I suppose it’s been months…’ she closes her eyes, trying to get the words out. ‘I’ve been having these nightmares and they’re all the same. Everybody dies.’

‘Who dies, Lydia?’

‘People I’ve seen on the street earlier that day, teachers I’ve hated and liked, people I love. My family, my friends… you.’ The end of the sentence is just a whisper and as she finishes it she looks into his eyes and all Stiles can see in them is utter fear and panic. ‘Lately they’re getting worse, almost every night and it’s getting hard to separate them from reality when I wake up.’

‘Oh Lydia,’ Stiles breathes, covering her hands with his and sitting on the bed beside her. ‘We have the tape now, and we know who the benefactor is. We’ll figure this out,’ Stiles murmurs as he rubs soothing circles on her back, ‘I promise.’

‘Will you stay?’ She murmurs from his chest.

‘For as long as you need me, Lydia.’

Settling down beside her, Stiles feels her wriggle her way across the bed until her head rests on his chest. Stroking her hair as she slips into sleep he drops a sleepy kiss on her head before resting his head on the pillow. 

\--

‘Stiles,’ Lydia says gently, somewhere above him. The ends of her strawberry blonde hair tickle his face and even with his eyes closed he recognises the scent, all strawberries and cream. 

He mumbles something along the lines of, ‘I want to be woken this way every morning,’ and finally opens his eyes to see Lydia sitting on the edge of her bed. 

‘Thanks, Stiles, for last night,’ Lydia says, brushing her hair.

‘No problem.’

‘I really mean it. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept that well.’ She sits fiddling with the tips of her hair. ‘And I um, I hope this won’t cause problems with Malia.’

‘Why would it?’ Stiles replies, with a slight edge to his voice that Lydia can’t place. Now that Stiles is fully awake he has the chance to appreciate how good his night’s sleep was too. 

‘I’m going to see Meredith today,’ Lydia says with a small smile on her face.

‘Malia and I promised we’d listen to the tape and see if we could make any sense of it. So I guess I’ll see you later. And Lydia,’ Stiles pauses at the door, ‘call if there’s anything you need.’ It’s as he’s walking down the stairs that he hears her enter her bathroom, singing the whole time.

\--

ALL CONTRACTS TERMINATED

There’s an instant flood of relief upon seeing those words on the phones of the people who’d come to kill them but only for Lydia is the relief replaced with a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. A little voice in the back of her head telling her something isn’t right and as the day goes on she can never quite shake it.

Stiles drives home smiling, relief spreading through him a little more with every minute that passes. His smile only brightens when he sees his dad’s cruiser in the driveway, figuring he must be done with Meredith at the station. He only realises just how hungry he is when he pushes the door open and immediately smells pancakes. 

‘You’re the best dad in the world, did I ever tell you that?’ Stiles says, entering the kitchen.

‘Never,’ Sheriff Stilinski smirks at his son over his shoulder and places the food on the table, which is already laid with the appropriate toppings for a pancake dinner.

The sheriff raises his eyebrows slightly, ‘no Malia tonight?’ 

Stiles rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable, ‘we, ah… we actually broke up.’

‘Really?’ the sheriff hesitates, ‘this doesn’t have anything to do with Lydia, does it?’

‘No,’ Stiles says, ‘it was actually Malia’s idea to break up.’

‘You guys are still friends though right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good, Malia’s a nice girl and it can’t be easy for her, I like her.’

Stiles asks the next question hesitantly, ‘do you like Lydia?’

‘I like Lydia a lot,’ the sheriff looks across at his son, ‘I’ll ask once more, is there something there?’

‘For me there’s always been something there… I don’t know dad, I left when she needed me most.’ Stiles gets up and clears the plates, indicating the end of the conversation.

\--

‘Lydia?’

‘You told me to call, if something was the matter.’

‘What is it Lydia?’ Stiles asks, a slight edge of panic creeping into his voice, ‘what’s wrong?’

‘At first I was relieved it was all over but now the voices are getting louder. I know something else is coming, Stiles. We have to be prepared.’

‘I trust you Lydia - I’ll let the others know.’

‘Thank you, Stiles.’ She takes a shaky breath, ‘And, Stiles.’

‘Yeah?’

‘This time I don’t think we’re going to get out unscathed.’

That night Stiles and Lydia fall asleep in their own beds, desperately wishing that they were falling asleep next to each other.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/n: I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this story but I'ma just roll with it & I hope you will too!

Trapped in a basement with a berserker and a 16 year old boy, Lydia discovers, is a great time to re-evaluate your life. She learns just how much her life and her goals have changed.  
It surprises her how little good grades and perfect hair have come to mean to her. It also surprises her how much she depends on the love and friendship of those around her. It is in that basement that she decides she will be Lydia again; Strong, fearless Lydia who is not afraid of anyone. It is not only for her benefit, she reasons, but for the benefit of those she loves as well.   
She knows she will have days when all she wants to do is grieve and give up but right now in this basement she will be strong enough to pick up that baseball bat and fight her way to the people who need her.  
\--  
It’s Kira she sees first when it’s all over and the kitsune collapses into her hug like she’s just left a battlefield. It’s been a long week Lydia says as she tries to find the words to soothe the girl in her arms. But as she discovered long ago, Kira doesn't mope for long and in the next moment her eyes shine with excitement as she invites Lydia to a girls night in that weekend.   
‘My parents are out of town,’ she explains to Lydia.  
Lydia accepts, feeling as if she needs to get to know the two girls in her life a little better; as she does she spares a thought for Allison whom she promises that she will always have the honour of being Lydia’s very first best friend.  
Scott and Stiles appear behind Kira who is quick to jump and squeal when Scott tickles her unexpectedly. Lydia shares a warm smile with Stiles but is hesitant to touch him; their contact has come easily in the past but now she feels wary of it, as if somehow it means more. They chat easily between the four of them for a few minutes.  
A voice from behind them suddenly sing songs _I know something you don't know,_ as Malia grabs Lydia and Kira by the arms and bounces up and down ever so slightly.  
‘What's got you so excited?’ Scott raises an eyebrow, unused to seeing Malia so lively.  
‘Well, I’ve been doing some research-’ she starts before Stiles interrupts her with a snort. ‘Shush, you,’ Malia says as she rolls her eyes with a smile.  
‘As I was saying, I’ve found a powder derivative of a certain kind of mild wolfsbane that looks like it can negate the effects of our supernatural alcohol inhibitor.’  
Scott, Stiles, Lydia and Kira stand staring at Malia as if she’s grown two heads.  
‘I didn’t understand at first either, basically-‘  
‘We know what it means,’ Stiles says, looking to Lydia. ‘We’re just unsure that came out of your mouth.’  
‘Don’t be cruel, Stiles.’ Lydia says, ‘where did you find out about this?’  
‘I don’t know what it means,’ Scott says, and Kira breathes a sigh of relief, glad she isn’t the one who has to admit it.  
‘It sounds like it takes away your immunity to alcohol,’ Lydia says, and turning to Scott adds, ‘but it could be really dangerous.’  
‘Exactly what I was thinking, where did you get your information, Malia?’ Stiles asks.  
‘Well, I’ve been really into computers lately so I thought I’d try to get in somewhere I shouldn't be. Anyway somehow I stumbled on an old college chat website for supernatural creatures. It was password locked but apparently I’ve got quite a knack for that kind of thing. It had all the science and stuff, maybe you guys could check it out first?’ She looks at Lydia then Stiles and back again.  
‘Wow,’ Scott says, a twinkle in his eye, ‘well I for one haven’t been drunk in over 4 years.’  
‘Fine,’ Stiles throws his hands up in the air and looks at them all, ‘we’ll check this out at lunchtime and see what’s what.’  
‘I could kiss you Malia,’ Scott says enthusiastically.  
‘Please don’t,’ she deadpans back at him.  
\--  
‘What do you think,’ Stiles turns to Lydia.  
‘Everything…’ she squints at the screen a little, ‘it actually all looks okay. I think we should check with Deaton though just to be on the safe side.’  
Stiles lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, ‘good idea,’ he says.  
They arrive to the animal clinic a little after four having printed out the pages of comments and scientific notations. Deaton welcomes them in with a warm smile, it’s the first time he’s seen them since Mexico.  
‘What can I help you with?’  
They take turns in explaining the situation.  
‘We’re not asking you to condone it,’ Lydia says.  
‘Yeah, no.’ Stiles says, ‘we just want to know if it’s dangerous.’  
Alan chuckles, ‘well since you’re all very much underage I definitely can’t condone it but yes, I’ve heard of this before, and yes it’s safe.’  
‘Thank you.’  
‘They may need looking after though, please don’t let them go well… wild,’ Deaton says with a smile.  
‘We won’t,’ Stiles says.  
‘I’ve said it before… but – you two make a strong team. You do well together.’ Deaton says as both Stiles and Lydia try not to look at each other.  
\--  
‘You know it’s still a girls only party right Scott?’ Kira says with a sympathetic look at her boyfriend’s puppy dog eyes.  
‘I know I know,’ Scott huffs, ‘but it’s gonna be no fun trying to get drunk with Stiles refusing to drink.’  
‘Oh yeah, been there buddy,’ Stiles says.  
‘Oh, dude I remember that, you wouldn’t shut up about-‘ Scott stops as he remembers the very girl they’re talking about is present and correct.  
‘About?’ Kira says inquisitively.  
‘No one, nothing,’ Scott says quickly.  
\--  
The following Friday is filled with Kira worrying she isn’t prepared, Scott trying to wheedle an invite to the girls-only party and Malia trying to concentrate on double algebra – which she decides is hopeless on a Friday afternoon and gives up.  
‘So you’ll go home, get your stuff to sleepover and come around to mine for about 7.30, we’ll order in and watch a couple of films, sound good?’ Kira nervously addresses the two girls.  
‘And get drunk!’ Malia shouts.  
‘Yes that too,’ Kira says with a giggle.  
Lydia pulls up outside Kira’s house at 7:23 and grabs her bag from the back seat. As she shuts the car door a sudden feeling of trepidation comes over her. Frowning, Lydia pushes the feeling away wondering exactly why she would be nervous about spending time with her… friends. Although what does she really know about the two girls sitting inside the house she thinks, trudging up the drive, what do they know about her?   
She hopes they like her.  
\--  
Scott was halfway through his third drink by 8:30 but thankfully he seemed to be slowing down. So far he had cried about Allison, had a rant about the endless parade of enemies knocking on his door and detailed every single failed attempt at going all the way with Kira.   
Stiles was exhausted.  
\--  
‘…and then he asked the caretaker to give him an explanation of how the mop worked.’  
The girls laugh and Lydia has to wipe a tear from her eye.  
‘What did the caretaker say?’ asks Malia.  
‘He asked if he had a screw loose and told him to get lost,’ Kira says and the three of them fall about laughing again.  
‘Well we’ve heard Lydia’s many stories on the topic,’ Kira nudges the strawberry blonde sitting next to her with an affectionate shoulder, ‘what about you Malia, you and Stiles?’  
‘Well I was the wild one in that relationship…’   
The peals of laughter bust out into the night once more.  
Scott folds his arms, ‘well they sound like they’re having fun,’ he says grumpily.  
They sit in Stiles’ jeep at the corner of Kira’s street; Stiles had only caved to driving when Scott threatened to walk there by himself.   
Although Stiles felt a little stalker-esque he couldn’t quite keep his natural curiosity at bay.  
‘What are they saying?’ he’s also more than a little concerned they might be talking about him. After all, he and Malia had broken up, and that’s what girls did, right?  
‘I can’t make it out,’ Scott squints and Stiles wonders if he thinks squinting will actually help him hear better or it’s just a side effect of being rather drunk.   
‘All I can hear is laughter,’ he continues.  
Well that’s not good, Stiles thinks, that’s not good at all.  
‘That’s it, I’m going in,’ and before Stiles can stop him, Scott falls out of the car.  
\--  
‘Yeah it was my decision,’ Malia relates.  
Kira and Lydia stare at her a little wide-eyed.  
‘And you’ve kept this secret for how long?’ Lydia asks.  
‘Oh, it’ll be going on three months now.’  
‘And you climbed into his window and just broke up with him?’  
‘Yep, and it’s great because we’re both totally fine with each other,’ Malia grins her wolfish grin.  
‘I can’t believe you’ve only just told us!’ Kira half screams. ‘Does Scott know? I swear when I get my hands on that boy I’m gon- what was that?’  
Lydia, being the least drunk of the three, recognises that the door is being opened – or rather fallen through – and goes into the corridor.  
‘Sorry,’ Stiles says, ‘I did try to stop him but…’ they watch as Scott pulls himself up via the shoe rack and fist pumps the air.  
‘…but he’s an alpha,’ Lydia finishes, trying and failing to supress the urge to laugh.  
\--  
‘Well this was the best idea Malia has ever had,’ says Stiles looking around at them all.  
Lydia is the only other one still conscious. Malia, Scott and Kira are snuggled up in the corner with multiple blankets and pillows. Scott is snoring softly.  
Deciding to put a film on Lydia nestles in to Stiles’ side and he slips an arm around her. It’s the first time they’ve been close in weeks and Lydia had almost forgotten how calming it was.  
Thirty minutes into the film they hear a loud shout outside followed by yet another person bursting through the door.  
Suddenly Derek is in the doorway gasping for breath and bleeding heavily.  
All he manages is ‘Where…is…Scott?’ before passing out on Kira’s living room carpet.


	4. Chapter 4

The trouble with witches is that when they don’t want to be found they won’t be.  
The trail stops dead on the other side of the forest as Scott’s shoulders slump. Derek puts a reassuring hand on his back.  
‘We’ll find them,’ Derek’s words are warm in the cool wind and Scott gives a firm nod of his head.  
The trouble with these particular witches however, goes a little deeper than that. Not only are they powerful beyond belief, they also have a werewolf pack protecting them.  
It’s been six long and frustrating days since Derek was attacked outside Kira’s house; and although he was badly injured Deaton is convinced that that the attack was just a show of power. _They want to test your strength. Show you that they can hurt you if you interfere._  
Although the pack aren’t sure what the coven want; what they do know is that it involves a large body count. The number of dead bodies turning up at the Nemeton is approaching double figures and no one is any closer to finding out why. The only thing that is certain is that the bodies have clearly been used in some sort of sacrifice ritual. The pack is torn between hoping the sacrifices haven’t worked – for whatever follows must surely be worse – and hoping that the slaughter of innocent people will soon come to an end.  
While Scott, Kira, Derek and Malia are trying to sniff out the whereabouts of the witches Stiles and Lydia have been reading though page after page of research and trying to translate every bestiary passage about witches that they can dig up.  
‘Tired is an understatement,’ Lydia says as she stretches back on Stiles’ bed, a crick in her neck and an aching back all she’s gathered from tonight’s reading session.  
‘Well considering you’ve been woken up four nights this week to have prime viewing of the latest corpse, it’s not really that surprising,’ Stiles barely glances up from his computer screen.  
‘You do have a point,’ Lydia mumbles into his pillow.  
Stiles finally looks across at the strawberry blonde practically passed out on is bed, ‘That’s it, you’re staying here tonight.’  
‘Fine,’ she waves a sleepy hand at him, too exhausted to argue. It’s not the first time he’s asked if she’ll stop but it’s the first time she’s accepted. The last and only time they’ve slept in the same bed remains the night Lydia called him and asked him to stay.  
Lydia feels her worries fading as she falls asleep, she wonders what the pleasant smell on Stiles’ pillow is. 

Maybe he could just fall asleep in his chair Stiles thinks with an unsure glance at the bed. Twenty minutes later, Lydia wakes with a start, and a slight whimper escapes her.  
Stiles is at her bedside in seconds, a comforting hand on her shoulder.  
'Are you still researching?'  
Stiles shakes his head, not really knowing how to act now. They’ve gone way off-script.  
'Come to bed, Stiles, there's nothing to be afraid of,' she rubs the hand that's on her shoulder.  
He nods tightly, scared of breaching the thin line that's been drawn around their intimate friendship. He's not sure what he's scared of. Their friendship isn't so fragile it would break, it's already been tested and it survived. He just doesn't want to get in any deeper than he already is.  
He gets under the covers before taking off his trousers and thinks he hears Lydia give a little snuffle of laughter but he can't be sure.  
It's easier for both of them. The sleep that usually comes so hard for Stiles because he's frightened to close his eyes comes easily with his anchor holding him down. And the fitful, interrupted sleep that Lydia normally experiences is soothed with the warm body of Stiles at her fingertips.  
Stiles wakes seconds before Lydia, opening his eyes to her sleeping face and halo of red gold hair. Looking at her makes something in his chest tighten; telling him that this is what life should be like.  
\--  
The pack meeting that night was fraught with worry. Never had a meeting felt so tense. Scott and Derek had found nothing, Lydia and Stiles had found nothing, the rest of the pack had found nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. They had no clear course of action to pursue, it was so frustrating.  
'All we managed to find out,' Lydia sighs, 'is that most modern day witches have roots in paganism and that most of them believe that magic should not be used to harm or influence anyone.'  
'In fact,' Stiles continues, 'most pagans admit they have no real power to work spells but that their rituals are almost like a prayer.'  
'So the problem is when the natural crosses into the supernatural?' Derek asks.  
'It seems so, it seems from what we found that witches are born and not made. That said, we didn't find much so don't take it as written,' Lydia says.  
‘Maybe it's time we ask Deaton for help. He mentioned the other day that he knew some witches - of the good variety. Perhaps they can help us find this other coven?' Scott's voice has a hopeful tint to it.  
Scott is on the phone to Deaton for a good twenty minutes before he returns to the meeting.  
'Okay, I argued this but Deaton said the only way we get council with the witches is if we send someone non-threatening.'  
'I'm guessing that means me,' Stiles says with a grin.  
'You're not going on your own,' Lydia blurts.  
'That's what I said,' Scott says, oblivious to the lingering eye contact between the human and the banshee. 'After much persuasion Deaton accepted they might allow Lydia in too.'  
The relief in Lydia's body language was palpable. Almost simultaneously Stiles becomes tense. 'There won't be any danger will there?' He asks; the concern not for himself but for the red-haired girl next to him.  
'It's unlikely, but we'll take precautions just in case,' Scott tries to reassure his friend.  
\--  
It’s a forty minute drive to the witches’ suggested meeting point. It turns out to be a backroom of a cosy inn. The inn is welcoming yet somehow unremarkable; although Lydia suggests that this could be deliberate on the witches part. The room itself is painted in dark colours with candles covering every surface.  
‘Welcome,’ they’re greeted by four women who are seated in a circle around a bowl of water; apparently gazing at the clear, still liquid.  
Stiles and Lydia wary of interrupting hover near the door; fingertips touching.  
The witch with her back to them was the one who had spoken and she laughed an airy laugh.  
Turning round she speaks again, ‘Join us, children.’  
Stiles stares. The witch looks so much like his mother he is transported back in time to the last moment he saw her. A memory he always tries to bury he feels the familiar tightening of his chest. Grabbing for Lydia he slows his breath as much as he can, screwing his eyes up to hold onto the rhythm of her breathing.  
Suddenly it becomes easier to breathe and when Stiles opens his eyes he sees the witch who looks like his mother pressing her hand to his chest.  
‘T- thank you,’ He stammers. Realising his grip on Lydia’s arm is far too tight he releases it and mumbles an apology only she can hear. She rubs his back in answer, a look of concern on her pretty face.  
She guides him to the circle and sits across from him, her hair flickering in the firelight. It’s now obvious that the witch who looks so much like Claudia is the leader of the coven and she introduces herself as Saffron. The youngest who sits on Lydia’s left only looks to be around seventeen; her hair is long and dark. She blushes as she says her name is Rowan. Elodie sits on Lydia’s right hand side; she looks like a pixie with deep blue eyes and a cap of golden hair. Next to Elodie sits Pepper who has full brown hair and curves in all the right places. Lydia wouldn’t admit it to anyone but she’s a little jealous; especially since Pepper keeps throwing flirtatious glances in Stiles’ direction.  
They take part in a small ritual named ‘calling the four corners.’ Elodie explains that you must never do magic without first casting a circle but that they had already completed that before Stiles and Lydia had arrived. The witches then pray to the Goddess Theia to give them sight. The pair from Beacon Hills shoot each other confused glances until the water between them starts shimmering.  
Saffron and the others seem to be in a trance while the substance gleams. It is at least five minutes before they gradually start to come around.  
‘Sorry,’ Pepper says, looking first at Lydia and then at Stiles, ‘I think that was all a little more intense than any of us were expecting.’  
The other three nod in confirmation.  
‘We cannot tell you exactly where to find your witches, little ones,’ Saffron says kindly. ‘We do, however have a lot of information you might be grateful to hear.’  
‘Firstly,’ Saffron says, ‘you must understand that to use dark magic does something to a person’s very soul; something that can never be undone.’  
The witches tell them that the key to defeating them is unlocking Lydia's powers. _How will I unlock my powers?_  
‘We can’t help you directly, you understand. To unlock her powers a banshee must earn the right.’  
Saffron nods to Rowan who stands up and says: 

_The lofty rafters are where you'll seek,_  
The gift she left for you to keep.  
Now you'll know what it's like,  
To use your power and use it right. 

‘Lastly,’ Saffron says as they prepare to leave, ‘they will notice the bond between you and they will use it against you. Good luck.’  
\--  
In a cave somewhere to the North East the dark witches are gathered around their own bowl; this one filled with blood. In unison seven harsh voices whisper ‘red string.’


	5. Chapter 5

_Dust._ That’s what the attic smelled of. _God knows how long it’s been since anyone was up here._ Lydia pulls her hair back and secures it with a hair tie and accepts the hand Stiles offers her to help navigate the boxes.   
She supposes a lot of this stuff is from before her father moved out, shoved in the most forgotten about place so it wouldn’t serve as a reminder. Lydia kicks a box, more out of disappointment than anything and sends a puff of dust flying.   
She feels a tingle over her skin and knows that whatever the hell it is they’re looking for; they came to the right place. She lets her feelings guide her and with Stiles’ comforting words in her ears she stops just beyond a pile of boxes.  
In front of her is a chest, it looks old and heavy, with a rusty key protruding from its lock. Lydia kneels and Stiles kneels beside her together thy push back the lid. A solitary damaged black leather bound book sits inside.  
Lydia turns to Stiles, ‘Will you lift it out?’   
He frowns at her but obliges, lifting the heavy book with both hands.  
‘I can feel its power - my Grandmother’s power – I’m afraid to touch it.’  
He nods, tracing his fingers over the front cover; _Bestiary_ is etched in faint letters as if time has almost worn them away. Stiles opens the heavy book, the pages yellow and torn.   
‘This must be the most comprehensive Bestiary we’ve ever seen.’ Lydia whispers, leaning over Stiles’ shoulder to read. She turns his head to look at him and blushes when she finds he’s already looking at her intently.   
‘I think you should touch it,’ He says.  
‘What?’ she splutters taken aback and hastily returning her gaze to the book. ‘Stiles…’ she says, grabbing his arm, eyes wide, ‘Stiles, look.’  
In front of them the book sits open at a page with ‘ _bean-sidhe_ ’ written across the top in ancient lettering. ‘Banshee,’ Lydia leans over so far she almost topples Stiles over with her.   
‘What does it say?’ Stiles asks.  
‘I’m not sure, it’s written in Gaelic, something about _the source_ ; we’ll have to bring it down with us.’ She stands up, brushing dust from her jeans. It’s the first time Stiles has seen her wear jeans since middle school and the thought is oddly comforting to him. He hefts the book into his arms, getting up to follow after her. He immediately came to an abrupt stop however, when he realised that Lydia too had stopped in her tracks.   
‘What’s up?’   
Lydia doesn’t answer and instead walks to where a battered old box lies, seemingly forgotten, at the side of the attic. She pulls out and old stuffed elephant and stares at it as if it signifies the end of the world.  
‘Lydia?’ Stiles prompts; setting the book down on an old shelving unit and rubbing his hands up and down her arms carefully.   
‘My dad bought me this for my tenth birthday, just before he left us; I called it Nellie, predictably. Nellie has known more of my tears than any other thing in this world.’ Her voice which started flat and toneless starts to shake before the end of the sentence and Stiles is sure he’s never seen her as vulnerable. ‘I remember there was this one time, I was feeling so sad at school and I ran out the classroom; at break time a boy gave me his chocolate bar and told me lots of silly jokes to try and make me smile.’ She turns around at last and looks directly into his eyes and her gaze is so intense that he has to look away. ‘You taught me that there are people who do care about me, Stiles; and I am forever grateful for that.’ She puts the elephant back in its box and grabs his hand, ‘I’m sorry I started ignoring you when we got to high school, I’m sorry for what I turned into.’   
He smiles, ‘you turned into a beautiful, intelligent, kick-ass banshee and I don’t see anything wrong with that.’  
‘I find dead people in my spare time,’ Lydia laughs, trying to ignore the blush that comes along with his compliments.  
Stiles laughs too, ‘you save people too.’  
‘I couldn’t do it without you,’ her expression turns thoughtful, ‘you know, we should really start listening to everyone around us.’ She’s finding it hard to meet his eyes, they’re so warm and honest and gentle.  
‘What do you mean?’ Stiles asks.  
‘Even my mom has noticed and that must mean something, even Allison wanted…’ Lydia trails off, wondering if she’s making a mistake by talking about this out loud.  
Stiles still looks baffled.  
‘You know… uh,’ Lydia plays with a strand of her hair like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen, ‘ **the bond between us** ,’ she says it dramatically waving her arms.  
‘Oh right,’ Stiles rubs the back of his head as he does whenever he’s nervous and she wonders when she started noticing things like that. ‘My dad asked whether there was anything going on between us, right after Malia and I broke up.’   
‘Oh... what did you tell him?’ Lydia is wearing a small smile now, feeling confident. She doesn’t know how long it’s been there but the urge to kiss him is so strong, especially here in the dim light of the attic.   
Maybe it’s been there since before the last time she kissed him.  
‘I told him that I left you when you needed me most and I didn’t know if you’d ever forgive me for that.’ Stiles says, meeting her eyes as Lydia takes a step forward. He feels his breath shortening in his chest but for once it feels nothing like a panic attack. He can do nothing but stand still and look into her green eyes as she places her hands on his shoulders and rises onto her toes.  
‘You’re forgiven,’ she whispers as his arms fall around her waist.  
In the silence of the dark room something rings loudly causing Stiles to jump back about ten feet and Lydia to swear.  
‘It’s Scott,’ Stiles says, pulling out his phone with a look of disappointment.  
To his surprise when he looks up Lydia is wearing a cheeky grin, ‘you better see what he wants,’ she giggles flirtily.  
\--  
‘I’m going to kill you Scott McCall,’ Stiles says as he finds his best friend at the edge of the woods.  
Scott looks taken aback, ‘I’m used to that threat but rarely does it come from my friends, what’s the matter?’   
‘What’s the matter?’ Stiles rants, ‘what’s the bloody matter?’   
Scott flinches, unsure of how to calm his friend down.  
‘Lydia freaking Martin was about to kiss me in her attic and you just had to pick that moment to call. Impeccable timing Scotty.’  
‘Wha - I didn’t get ESP along with the rest of my puppy powers – wait did you just say Lydia kissed you?’  
‘ _Nearly_ kissed me, Scott. That’s the difference here.’  
‘Dude, this is a big deal. This is Lydia we’re talking about. You’ve had a crush on her since like fourth grade.’  
‘Third.’  
‘Third and now she loves you and wants to kiss you,’ Scott sits down, overwhelmed.  
‘No one said anything about love, okay? She just wants to explore our bond.’  
Scott wiggles his eyebrows a little.  
‘Not like that, Scott.’  
‘If I know Lydia and I’m pretty sure I do, it’s gonna be exactly like that at some point in the near future.’  
‘Oh God,’ Stiles slides down the tree trunk he’s been leaning against, ‘what am I going to do?’  
‘You’re going to stay calm and come and investigate with me.’  
\--  
Stiles is quiet all the way to their destination and it’s because he’s thinking about the possibility of him and the stunningly beautiful goddess that is Miss Lydia Martin… Well, he’d think about that later.  
They arrive at the Nemeton; Scott is convinced that they’ve missed something and since the Nemeton is one of the only leads they have Stiles has ended up at the mangled old tree instead of kissing the prettiest girl in Beacon Hills.  
The clearing that hosts the Nemeton looks much less threatening in the daylight they discover. Shafts of light fall through the branches and scatter on the ground; lighting up the burnt orange and yellow leaves on the ground and motes of dust dance and twirl in the beams. It seems almost peaceful and Scott and Stiles chat amicably about school and their friends.   
‘Derek is more shaken by the attack than he’s letting on,’ Scott pokes around in a pile of leaves, hoping to find a drop of wax or literally anything that might lead them to the witches.  
‘Well since he turned into a wolf he’s been stronger, it must have been bad,’ Stiles stands at the opposite end of the clearing. ‘Hey Scott,’ he says quietly as he sees the corner of a page poking up through the leaves.  
‘What is it, buddy?’ Scott moves towards him as Stiles moves to brush the leaves away, ‘Stiles I’ve got bad feeling about this.’  
Stiles glances back at Scott once before he swipes a hand across the page.  
‘STILES!’ Scott shouts, seeing Stiles enveloped in black smoke, Scott fights his way through and grasps at the spot where Stiles once was. Stiles is gone and so is the book.  
‘Stiles!’ Scott hears a shout from beyond the clearing, ‘Scott!’ At first it sounds like Allison and he shakes his head - sure that the black mist is playing tricks on him – then he sees a fiery head appear at the edge of the treeline.  
‘Scott,’ Lydia breathes heavily, as if she’s been running, ‘where the hell is Stiles?’


	6. Chapter 6

_‘Scott,’ Lydia breathes heavily, as if she’s been running, ‘where the hell is Stiles?’_

Scott’s ears ring dimly and the clearing seems to get bigger and bigger. He puts a hand out to steady himself against the nearest tree trunk but misses and stumbles over.

_Scott?_

He’s sweating like crazy and his blood is pounding through his veins, roaring at his temples. He hasn’t lost control of the wolf for such a long time; he’d almost forgotten what it felt like. Though the light is fading fast it’s still only the middle of the afternoon and despite this, Scott can feel the pull of the moon and his desire to cry out to it builds.

_Scott? Please, talk to me._

The black smoke, he tries to choke out, the black smoke that took Stiles away, it’s poisoned me. The words turn to black blood on his tongue and he spits it out in disgust. His control is slowly slipping and he wants to tell Lydia to run but instead he falls to his hands and knees; it’s only when he looks down at his fingers that he sees his claws are out. His predatory instinct takes over and the rational, human part of Scott’s mind slips away.

His vision goes red and zeroes in on Lydia.

The weather changes quickly and the speed and intensity of it alerts Lydia to the fact that it’s a distinctly supernatural transformation. The clearing, which had been dappled with sunlight when she’d arrived, is now shrouded in mist. It makes the air damp to the touch as the temperature drops drastically causing a shiver to trace its way down Lydia’s spine.  
Lydia squints as if to help her see through the sudden blanket of white. It takes a few seconds before she finally spots Scott, the blood red of his eyes glowing through the mist.

‘Scott?’

Her mind still doesn't quite want to believe what it’s seeing and it outright rejects the sight of one of her closest friends as a rabid killer. Not after the struggle Scott had been through to make sure his morals always won out over his wolf nature. 

As Lydia turned to sprint as fast as she could through the clearing - twisting her ankle in the process, just about the only downside to living by the rule _‘if they’re lower than 5 inches they’re unacceptable as footwear’_ \- as she runs an old memory pops into her head.

_‘A mountain lion,’_

_Stiles picks up her stuffed giraffe from where it sits on the bedside table, ‘what’s this?’_

_‘A mountain lion.’_

Stiles had told her once that she’d cracked the first time she’d ever heard of the supernatural because she was simultaneously too smart to accept what she was seeing and too smart to not accept what she was seeing. Lydia had a better explanation; she hadn't been able to cope. That Lydia - the one she had pretended to be for so long - was drawn to destruction and danger. The real Lydia was cautious and it wasn’t hard to admit: the supernatural fucking terrified her, even after all this time. In fact, more so now, she had lost her best friend and watched her boyfriend turn into a killer and a monster; she had almost died and woken up as something she didn’t understand and she had shared the emotional fear of being terrorised by the Nogitsune.

As she runs from Scott she knows that in this state he isn’t himself, purely relying on his senses. When Lydia comes to a small body of water (shoes be dammed), she crosses over and follows the crumbling bank for two minutes before crossing again. She knows that his sense of smell will be strongest; therefore masking her trail with running water ought to slow him down.

Lydia comes to a stop, resting her back against the side of a tree trunk; heart beating fast and frown plastered across her face. She had heard nor seen any signs of Scott since she had left the Nemeton and she knew it was unlikely she had lost him that easily. Pulling out her phone to alert the remaining members of the pack, her fingers are shaking too much to type; then she hears his howl and the ferocity of it resonates through the forest. 

The text is only half written as she shoves her phone back in her pocket and takes off running again.

Her breath is ragged in her chest, her skin is sticky and her legs are weak when she decides she can’t run anymore, leaning against a tree for support. As she wipes her forehead with her wrist she looks up to take in her surroundings.

 _Shit._ How did she end up back at the Nemeton? Scott's scratches, snuffles and howls are not far behind her. Lydia knew she was not fast enough to outrun him, she just hoped to get through to him before he harmed her, just as much for his sake as for hers and here at this gnarled old tree root that had caused so much bother was where she would make her stand.

Scott was on the edge of the clearing now, circling. Lydia climbed on top of the tree stump itself as if it would give her some form of protection.

There is a single moment of silence as Scott, no, the wolf, turns his head to look at her. Then he comes running at full tilt towards her. Lydia, knowing that she cannot protect herself closes her eyes and throws out both palms towards him. She feels power burst from her hands and when she opens her eyes she is surprised to see Scott on the floor on the edge of the glade. He lets out a little whine which turns into a growl and Lydia prepares herself once more.

It's then that she hears a noise outside of the tree line. Scott's ears perk up and his growls become louder. Lydia hopes that means whoever is coming opposes Scott. An enemy of my enemy is my friend she thinks hopefully. 

Together Kira and Malia burst through the boundary of trees, Kira wielding her katana and Malia baring her teeth.

'Thank you for coming guys, how did yo-'

Her words are drowned out by Scott's whimpers. It's only then that she realises Kira is holding out a burning flower, the smoke wafting towards him - sprig of wolfsbane.  
'Woah, Kira what are you doing?' Lydia asks.

'Don't worry, Deaton gave it to us. It's mild, it's used to draw the human side out; reverse the transformation.'

'But how did you know what was happening?'

Malia grinned, 'Derek heard his howl! He said it wasn't Scott but the wolf inside. He went to check out the other side of the woods but obviously coyotes have superior smell.'  
Scott has fully transformed back now and was looking between the three of them in confusion. His eyes stopped on Lydia.

'Lydia... I'm sorry.'

'It's okay Scott, it wasn't you' she smiles at him.

His brows are still pulled down in confusion, 'I was still inside but I couldn't break through, the wolf had complete control. Lydia, you had powers, you pushed me back and your eyes were glowing.'

'I've awoken something; I can still feel the power. I need to read the bestiary and then we need to find Stiles.'

'Stiles is gone?' Malia asks, worry etched on her features.

'He disappeared in black smoke,' Scott says, 'let's meet back at Deaton's in an hour.'

'I'm sorry,' says Scott for the fifteenth time since she'd turned up at the veterinary clinic, a shower and a fresh change of clothes later. 

'Scott,' she places a hand on his chest, 'stop.'

On the table in front of them is the bestiary, strangely Lydia had been able to touch it when she'd gotten back. The frightening aura she had previously encountered had changed into something much more calming. She had tried to tap into her powers once more but realised quickly that it was futile without an emotional stimulus and something to direct the power towards. Besides she didn't really want to be responsible for destroying her house with banshee powers. 

She's more worried about Stiles than anything else, the connection she has to him pulling in her chest, demanding her to find him, to be near him.

'Is there any way...' Lydia begins, stopping after throwing a guilty glance in Malia's direction. 

'Go on,' the brunette gives her an encouraging smile which seems to say I can handle it.

'Is there any way we can use the connection between stiles and I to find him.'

'That's actually not a bad idea Lydia,' Deaton praises her, 'though to do so will not be easy, firstly it needs to be a full moon and we all know the problems with that. Secondly, you'll need to be in a trance, Lydia and you will need to have a guide. I'd suggest Scott but after what happened today I can't guarantee that the same won't happen on the full moon. Lastly, when you find out where he is you need to be able to leave there. If you go inside you will be in danger.'

'I can be her guide,' Kira suggests, 'everyone else will be busy preparing for the full moon,' she gives Lydia a shy smile.

'I agree,' says Deaton.  
\--  
The next full moon is just over a week and a half later and it takes its toll on Lydia. The pull inside her gets stronger with every day, often to the point that becomes frantic and panicked about the situation. It's during these episodes that her friends notice her eyes glowing purple. They calm her as best they can but there are times they need to help her sleep and they worry that Stiles is going through the same thing. 

There are occasions that Lydia brings the bestiary out and starts to translate it but her mind is so jumbled and she’s so tired that she can hardly get past the first line. She realises that in order to make any headway, she must be in a calm state of mind and to achieve that they must first get Stiles back.

It's the night before the full moon when they are attacked whilst patrolling the perimeter of Beacon Hills and it's Kira who has the worst injuries. The pack decides she needs to rest instead of going scouting with Lydia leaving only Malia with full strength and her control over her shift intact. Both Lydia and Malia agree to the new situation and tension builds as night draws closer.

They meet back at Deaton's, both girls are quiet and Lydia wonders if Malia feels the same nervous anticipation that she does. Together they prepare what they need for the spell, working from Deaton's notes. They begin the ritual when the white orb peaks its head through the wispy clouds in the darkening sky. Deaton works the spell and Malia grips Lydia's hand as she falls into a trance.

Deaton silently prompts Malia to read the words on the paper he gave her earlier.

'Lydia, I want you to picture the string that connects you to Stiles. I want you to follow the string. Show me where he is.'

Her words have an instantaneous effect on the strawberry blonde; Lydia’s eyes fly open, her pupils shining purple. Her grip tightens on Malia’s hand before she pulls her along, running to save the life of Stiles Stilinski.


	7. Chapter 7

Lydia doesn't stop running for ten minutes and by then they're outside of Beacon Hills. As Lydia slows down, Malia can see that they're approaching an abandoned building. The taller girl catches a scent then and pulls them both behind a tree and in doing so she notices that Lydia's eyes have reverted to their original shade of emerald green.

Werewolves, Malia mouths, a finger pressed to her lips.

'I know,' Lydia whispers back, 'I can sense them.'

Although this causes Malia to raise her eyebrow, she doesn’t seem too surprised, 'how many?'

'Three this side, two round the other side. You know Malia - this was supposed to be re-con only,' Lydia raises an eyebrow at her friend.

'Now you and I both know that was never going to happen,' Malia twists her mouth into a smirk.

Lydia smiles back, 'time to see what I can do.'

Lydia points the location of one of the werewolves to Malia and just as the wind changes and the wolves catch their scent, they launch an ambush.

Running towards the werewolf on the left of the building, Lydia sends a burst of power in his direction, sending him to the floor in a cloud of dust. She looks around wondering how she can keep him down and spotting a tree which looks as if it's been recently cleaved in half by a lightning strike. She sends her power towards it finding that she can sense where the tree touches the ground shifting her power a little, Lydia is surprised when the trunk lifts away from the ground. The werewolf is slowly getting to his feet as Lydia swings the hunk of tree round and it hits the man with a crack; he slumps back to the floor. 

The strawberry blonde pants as she looks around to find Malia. The coyote is holding off two at once, a male and a female. She is ferocious in her attacks but Lydia can sense the injury to her left arm. Thinking quickly Lydia sends freshly fallen leaves towards the wolves, circling them as they fight to see through the sudden curtain of foliage. Malia spares only the briefest of glances towards her friend before diving into the fray with renewed confidence.

Gathering her energy once more, Lydia sends a burst of power to one of the wolves; the strength of the blast sends him toppling into the building, knocking him out. Before the female has chance to alert the rest of the pack Malia silences her with a right hook to the temple.

The two girls walk towards the entrance and as they meet Malia grins at her friend, her only comment, 'power suits you Lydia Martin.'

Not sure how to respond Lydia keeps quiet, only shooting a small smile at her friend.

\--

Malia follows Lydia into the building; both of the girls tiptoe quietly next to the walls, Lydia sending out probing tendrils of power, gathering information. Surprisingly, the building is almost empty and Lydia senses Stiles easily, his presence like a beacon of warmth and light. Unfortunately, with him are two individuals – one a werewolf – the second reeks of harsh power which sends the word ‘witch’ bouncing around Lydia’s brain.

It’s not long until the witch leaves, leaving the werewolf behind, presumably to guard Stiles. Malia points out that it won’t be long until the wolves outside either wake up or are found by others which prompts the two girls to hurry even faster down the corridor. 

‘Stiles,’ Lydia breathes, tears pricking her eyes as she catches sight of him. 

The room they’re standing in is dark; only one high window provides any light. The cage Stiles is huddled in is huge but devoid of any furnishings. His head is buried in his arms, his hair is dishevelled and his arms are caked with dried blood. Lydia almost lets out a sob at the sight of him but instead turns her eyes – she’s sure they’re glowing purple by now – to the advancing werewolf. This girl is slight; and she looks younger than Lydia but there’s a rage growing inside of the banshee that she’s never felt before. It makes her want to tear this girl’s head off with her newfound power and from the growls emitting from Malia she knows that her friend is in the same mind set. 

They leap forward together, Lydia throwing the girl onto Malia’s claws and the coyote swiping her back towards Lydia. They work well together and the girl is soon on the ground, clutching at her wounds. Lydia blasts the gate from Stiles’ cage striding towards him and crouching next to him, eyes glowing purple. She touches his cheek to raise his head and the rush of emotion she has when she sees his face comes out as power and she physically watches the purple energy burst from her fingers and disappear into his skin. In the brief moment that their eyes meet, she registers the shock in his before he closes them and goes limp in her arms. 

‘Lydia, we have to go,’ urges Malia.

‘Help me,’ the redhead all but whispers from the floor as she attempts to lift Stiles’ weight. Malia rushes to his other side and uses her strength to help Lydia lift him. They make their way slowly to a different entrance than the one they used previously. Lydia knows that the banshee and the coyote both know what they’re about to encounter but neither of them raise the issue. She blasts the door open; the final barrier between them and the woods.

There’s a floodlight at this side of the building, its beam illuminates the woods. Six figures stand between the three of them and safety: five werewolves and a witch.   
She hears Malia swear under her breath as she glances towards Lydia. It seems as though time is moving at half speed as the coyote shifts her weight to support Stiles to the ground and flicks her claws out, growling ferociously. 

It’s as Lydia slumps to the ground underneath Stiles’ weight that she feels something wash over her. It takes her a few prolonged moments to realise that it’s power, unlike anything she’s ever felt before. It's almost as if she knows what's going to happen before it does; as if she senses Stiles start to get up before he actually moves at all.

Then suddenly he is on his feet, his hand grasping hers to pull her with him. As they look on at the unfolding scene in front of them – the wolves are too busy growling at Malia to notice them and it’s clear they think they’ve won – Stiles still stands slightly behind her. She feels his name forming on her lips but a burst of power from him silences everything, even the voices in her head. She feels the ground shake and the wind pick up and it’s clear to her, despite her dazed state that his power draws on the elements. At this very moment he’s lifting the very roots from the ground and using them to secure all six of their enemies. 

It’s Malia that thinks quickly and stops him from going too far, resting his arm back around her shoulders, and motioning a shell-shocked Lydia to do the same. Stiles slumps again then and it’s all he can do to help them by placing one clumsy foot in front of the other. It’s clear that his victims won’t be moving anytime soon as the wood of the trees seems to be both holding them still and blocking their powers. Lydia gives one last glance to the witch, whose dirty hair hides a misleadingly pretty face. Lydia despises the look she’s giving to Stiles, as if this was exactly as she desired all along.

‘Lydia?’ Stiles says with a surprisingly strong voice. Lydia makes a soothing noise in return; hardly able to stomach the distance back home herself, let alone carrying Stiles. It seems the burst of energy was temporary however as when he next speaks his voice is muffled and hard to understand. 

‘Lyd..,’ he takes a breath and it seems to hurt him, ‘have Al- Ali.’

‘What are you saying Stiles?’ Malia watches the colour drain from Lydia’s cheeks as she takes in Stiles’ words.

‘Allison. They have her,’ Stiles barely whispers, collapsing in their arms for the last time that night.


End file.
